


The Mercenary and the Traitor

by Athelassa



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Brotp, Drama, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athelassa/pseuds/Athelassa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward and Hunter were bound to meet eventually, it was just a matter of time. However, no one would have thought that their first face-to-face meeting would take place after one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most important missions so far. Two guys like night and day – This surely spelt trouble. What if they were not that different after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mercenary and the Traitor

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Just an idea that ghosted around my head for a while. Let’s call it an ode to the Ward we got to see in 2x07. Boy, he rocked that episode! Mostly canon-compliant and set somewhere after 2x08.

There was a trail of blood on the floor, leading down the badly lit hallway and around the corner. Hunter spotted it immediately, although it was just a few droplets and the tiles were a dark grey, almost black.

“There is someone down here”, he spoke into the comms, lifting his gun, all senses on high alert. “Looks like one of them got away. I go and check it out.” No one answered, no static, no nothing. “Guys?”

Still no answer, but there was no doubt that the comms were down. Hunter swore. Of course, why the bloody hell not? So many things had gone wrong today that he really was not surprised. It had all begun with his team walking right into a trap. One of Coulson’s more senior agents had reported a sighting of Whitehall in the neighborhood and they had gone to investigate. Hydra must have gotten cleverer, because it had seemed like his team had just stumbled across this building on accident. The truth was, Hydra had wanted them in exactly this place all along. Skye had warned them about it before going in and Coulson had been rather nervous about it, too (at least as far as Hunter could tell, after all, that man was not exactly an open book to his team). Still, this was their chance at bringing down Whitehall, maybe their only chance, so Coulson had thrown caution to the wind and had told them to go in.

Hunter looked around, still pointing his gun in the direction of where the blood trail disappeared behind the corner. This was an old laboratory, looking like it was shut down decades ago. Or maybe it was an abattoir... Damn it! Hunter shook his head minutely and told himself to focus. He just knew watching that one horror movie would eventually come back to bite him in the ass. It was all Bobbi’s fault, she loved horror movies. The scarier, the better. But then she was upstairs safely, basking in the sunlight and handcuffing a few Hydra agents, while he was tracking down some Nazi fellow in the basement.

After everything that had gone wrong today, his team had still been surprisingly successful. Whitehall and twenty Hydra goons had had them all cornered at gunpoint. Hunter had never thought he would one day come to appreciate Whitehall’s scientific nature, but it was the only thing that had kept the Big Bad from killing them all immediately, because he had wanted to experiment on them. Especially on Skye and Coulson. May and Trip had been knocked out at that time and the remaining four agents including himself and Bobbi had all been forced to lay down their weapons. Things had looked bleak as a November morning in Sheffield. At least Skye and the science twins were out of danger, because they had stayed on board of the plane. It had been too dangerous to let Skye come with them, because they might have encountered her father. However, it looked like her papa had fled the scene before they had arrived.

One of the neon tubes above his head started flickering, startling Hunter badly. He was almost tempted to take it out completely with a bullet, but this would definitely let his target know that he was being followed. It was completely silent in the hallway, only the buzzing of the neon tube could be heard when it tried to flicker alive, but never really staying that way for long.

Maybe he was still slightly deaf from the explosion that had saved all of their lives. Just as Hydra had wanted to lead them to some underground cave, a massive explosion had rocked the building. Half of the room had collapsed, luckily enough only on the side where the Hydra agents had been standing. The following distraction had turned the tables and his team had been able to take down most of the remaining Hydra agents – including Whitehall – in a short, but brutal gunfight. His heart had clenched fiercely when he had watched Bobbi take a bullet to her left leg, but – as usual – every one of his concerns had been waved away immediately. At least that was a rather sure sign she was not bleeding out while he had gone to secure the perimeter. Which was why he was stranded on this nightmarish hallway with the comms down, some three-story under the ground, with blood drops leading him on a spooky-as-hell Hansel-and-Gretel chase. Just brilliant.

“Get your head together, Hunter”, he whispered to himself while he edged closer to the corner and pressed himself against the wall. It was pitch dark around the corner, that much he could tell. And he was pretty sure this hallway led to a dead end. Maybe he should try to get back to the others, but then his target might be able to get away. He decided to move on. The other, whoever that might be, was injured and bleeding, maybe even unconscious. Hunter pulled himself together and stretched out his arms so that the gun was on eye-level, before he moved around the corner in one quick motion.

Out of nowhere, a kick to his hand knocked his gun away and Hunter barely had the time to block the punch that was meant to knock him out. He wanted to duck away, but the other was just too quick and a knee to the stomach had him double over. This time he was too slow to protect his head and the blow to the back of his skull made his world go dark.

He could not have been unconscious for more than a minute or two, because he felt zip ties being tightened around his wrists and ankles when he came to. His head hurt and his vision was blurry, but he still had enough presence of mind to wonder why he was not dead. Would his assailant use him as a hostage to get out of here?

It was still too bloody dark to see anything clearly. He could hear an almost inaudible grunt some feet across from him, then the rustling of clothes that stopped after another second or two. Hunter struggled to get himself into a sitting position. His eyes were slowly getting adjusted to the darkness and he could make out a heavy steel door just to his left with a chain on the handle. Dead end, just as he had predicted. The shadow opposite of him slowly morphed into the shape of a man, sitting across the hallway against the other wall in an almost perfect mirror of Hunter’s own position.

“Bad idea to come down here alone”, the other spoke in a slightly husky voice that sounded awfully familiar to Hunter. “But then again, you weren’t all that clever last time we saw each other. Only a Brit could think that he wouldn’t stick out dressed as a cowboy in the U.S.”

Before Hunter could really process what the other had said, a small electric lamp was turned on and shed just enough light for Hunter to make out the face of his assailant. Hunter froze for a moment, then managed to override his surprise.

“Well, well”, he drawled, already starting to wriggle his wrists in an attempt to loosen the ties. “If it isn’t Skye’s ex psycho boyfriend. Well, the ex goes for the boyfriend, not the psycho. You clearly still _are_ a psycho.”

Ward smirked at that. It did nothing to make Hunter rethink his definition of him. Quite the opposite. That smirk lent Ward’s dark eyes a slightly deranged and thoroughly dangerous glint. He looked different than last time Hunter had seen him. The beard was gone, so was a good part of his hair that was now cropped short. He looked younger this way and Hunter realized for the first time that they must be around the same age.

“Cute”, Ward commented, the smirk still on his lips. “I wondered why Coulson kept you around. It must be your humor, since it can’t be your other skills. And you can stop trying to wriggle out of the zip ties, it won’t work.”

Hunter could not hold back the scathing look that he sent Ward, but really did stop working on the zip ties. Damn it, the traitor was good! Of course he had known that before, but it still managed to surprise him. If his team did not come to his rescue soon, he had no chance of getting out of this alive. He hoped they would realize he was missing rather sooner than later. In the meantime he tried to do what he did best: Trying to distract the former specialist by talking.

“Fancy meeting you here”, Hunter drawled, forcing a jovial smile on his lips. “I heard so many things about you – mostly bad things, I’m afraid – but we were never really introduced before. I really don’t want to seem rude, but I guess we have to postpone the handshake for later. I’m Lance Hunter.”

“I know who you are”, Ward replied levelly, not even reacting in the tiniest way to the attempt at humor. A heavy silence followed that statement and Hunter had to forcefully keep himself from squirming under the dark stare of the former specialist. Maybe lightheartedness was not really Ward’s thing, Hunter concluded.

“I also know who your wife is”, Ward continued after what felt like ages.

“Ex-wife”, Hunter corrected immediately. The thought of Ward sniffing after Bobbi made the hairs on his arm raise.

“Is that what you told them?”, Ward asked him almost gleefully, the smirk back in place. “But then only Coulson’s people are naive enough to buy that she is your ex-wife. They don’t know you haven’t got around to that divorce yet, do they? Let me guess: Your sentimentality kept you from signing the papers.”

Hunter could not help but stare, the goose bumps evolving into a full-blown shiver.

“How can you possibly know of that?!”

Ward smiled, a first real smile that told Hunter he was mightily pleased with himself.

“I have my sources. And that pale spot on your finger tells me that you only recently stopped wearing your ring.”

Hunter was sure he looked like a fish out of the water, opening and closing his mouth without any sound emerging from it, but then forced himself to move on.

“Yeah, right”, he replied, going for a tell-this-shite-to-a-five-year-old-and-maybe-she-will-believe-you-tone. “It’s too dark in here for me to even see your hands, let alone a pale spot on a finger.”

Ward shrugged one of his shoulders as if he did not have a care in the world.

“It’s too dark _right now_. It wasn’t before.”

“You’ve been watching us”, Hunter stated slowly, an eerie feeling creeping up his spine again.

“Maybe”, Ward conceded.

There was a long pause in which each man tried to stare down the other, before Hunter decided to break the silence again.

“You really take this creeper role seriously, mate”, Hunter commented, trying to shuffle his feet as unobtrusively as possible so the blood would keep circulating in them. “No wonder Skye broke up with you.”

There was suddenly a dangerous glint in Ward’s dark eyes that told Hunter that his tongue had run away with him. Again. He was aiming for distraction, not riling up the former specialist.

“You know nothing about her and me”, Ward practically spat, which was funny, because it told Hunter all there was to know about him and the hacker. The former specialist might be a traitor and a murderer, but Hunter had no doubts that his feelings for Skye had been anything but an act. Not that this was necessarily a good thing. At least for Skye.

A new icy silence spread and Hunter had to force himself not to look away from the intense gaze of the former specialist. Try to distract him again, Hunter told himself.

“So”, he continued, “are we just staying here and wait till spring before we crawl out, like the bears and the snowdrops? You got me, here I am, so what now?”

Ward shifted slightly and Hunter thought he saw a small wince on his face, but it was gone too fast for him to be sure.

“I had thought you might help me”, Ward said quietly.

Hunter could not help but raise one of his eyebrows at that.

“Really?”, he replied loftily. “I’m sorry, I know that you have this reputation going on as one of the best spies since what’s-her-name before you went all traitor on Coulson, but I don’t think that little small-talk we have going will be enough to charm me into helping out a turncoat.”

Ward gave a small nod at that, before he surprised Hunter by rolling his eyes at him.

“You’re a mercenary”, the former specialist pointed out matter-of-factly. “You kill people for money. I’m not sure that’s more ethical. But I guess it’s socially more acceptable.”

“Woah, woah”, Hunter exclaimed. “What’s with the big words all of a sudden? And we’re not the same, you got that? I’ve been a mercenary for a good part of my life, yes, but I want to change and I think I already did.”

Hunter was not sure why he even felt the need to justify himself in front of Ward. This was none of his business anyway.

“Well”, Ward replied and gave him a small smile that looked slightly painful. “I try to change, too.”

Now this came as a surprise and it even sounded sincere to Hunter’s ears, but he had heard enough about the other man to be careful. He had heard Coulson caution Skye too many times about Ward being a master manipulator to be so easily fooled.

“Yes, right”, Hunter answered and went for an amiable smile. “Now that Whitehall is in our custody maybe you can change from henchman to boss. If you get out of here alive, that is.”

Ward actually had the gall to look slightly disappointed, but he did not reply. Another long minute went by in which Hunter thought he could hear footsteps in the hallway, but it was only his mind playing tricks on him. His team surely took its time. They must have realized he was missing by now.

“Alright”, Ward suddenly said, startling Hunter a bit. “If you don’t want to help me willingly, then I’ll force you to it. There’s a rather big glass shard lodged in my back between the eleventh and twelfth rib from the explosion. I can’t get it out myself without losing too much blood, so you have to remove it for me. I know you have some experience in battlefield medicine.”

Ward paused, letting Hunter stare at him, while he rummaged in the dark bag he had at hand and brought out what looked like three bricks of clay, with at least ten wires hanging out of it that were connected to three different watches.

“I also know”, Ward continued, “that you have no experience whatsoever in defusing a bomb. Me, on the other hand, I’m a bit of an expert in this field. I’ll give you exactly ten minutes to patch me up and I better be alive when you’re finished, because otherwise you got a problem. This is enough C-4 to bring the whole building down, especially since it’s already instable from the former explosion. Ten minutes won’t be enough time to clear everyone out from here when your comms aren’t working.”

Hunter listened with growing trepidation while Ward calmly explained the procedure. The son of a bitch really had him there! Slowly but surely he understood why everyone insisted on Ward being so bloody dangerous.

“Any questions?”, the former specialist asked coolly as if they were in a class room and he had just explained what the students needed to learn for their next history exam while he pulled out bandages and antiseptic from his bag.

“Yes, actually I’ve got one”, Hunter replied, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “What if you pass out while I remove the shard?”

Ward never stopped in his preparations and just raised his eyebrows.

“Well, you better be gentle with me.”

Swallowing hard again, Hunter nodded.

“Gentle, I got it.”

Ward turned up the light of the small lamp and only now Hunter could see that he was really pale and that he sat in a small puddle of blood. That made Hunter’s throat clamp up a bit, because he was not sure he could fix a wound that bled so much in such a short time. This looked definitely worse than just a simple flesh wound. It did not seem to faze the former specialist all that much because he calmly beckoned for Hunter to come closer before he set the timer on the bomb and then cut through the zip ties with a knife in one clean move.

“Clock is ticking”, he announced, then turned his back to Hunter while remaining on his knees.

Hunter swore under his breath when he saw the wound for the first time. The rather large and jagged piece of glass had gone right through Ward’s black leather jacket and stuck out in a way that reminded him of one of the horror movies he had watched with Bobbi. He had seen his fair share of ugly wounds in war and later on, but this looked really nasty. Slowly, he felt around the wound, but there was no way to tell how deep it was or how much damage there was done. Not with the clothes still in the way. And he had no time to cut around the jacket to remove it before setting to work.

“I really can’t see anything, mate, I’m flying blind here”, Hunter warned Ward. “The shard might have lodged itself in an artery and you might bleed to death as soon as I move the glass.”

“You got this, Hunter”, Ward reassured him in a steady voice that actually _did_ help him to calm down a bit.

“Ha, if you only knew that the last time someone told me _‘You got this, Hunter’_ I almost burned down the house because I wanted to make pancakes”, Hunter replied in a forcedly light tone, then paused. “You didn’t know _that_ , did you? You can’t know everything.”

A small snort escaped Ward’s throat, which took Hunter aback, and the former specialist definitely sounded amused as he replied, “No, I didn’t know that, but I have a very strong suspicion it was your wife.”

“Damn it, you’re right”, Hunter admitted grudgingly while still feeling around the embedded shard. “A pity you’re on the dark side, we could use someone as good as you. But I would really advise you now not to mention my wife again, because that definitely doesn’t help me with going gentle on you. That woman drives me crazy, I swear. I should’ve signed that divorce long ago.”

“I don’t think so”, Ward said quietly. “You being mad at her just shows that you still care.”

Hunter paused what he was doing and looked long and hard at the back of Ward’s head. Okay, this was definitely bizarre, talking with the traitor about his marriage. Maybe this was just some strange dream he had... Nope, his head definitely still hurt from where Ward had hit him.

“That’s rubbish”, he replied as normally as possible. “If that was true and being angry with someone is a sign of affection, then you’d still have rather good chances with Skye.”

Since Hunter’s hands were still on Ward’s back, he could clearly feel the muscles tense beneath his fingers.

“Enough talking, get to work”, Ward prompted him roughly.

Okay, okay, Hunter thought to himself. If he ever got out of this alive he would definitely need to have a long talk with Skye about her taste in men. Though, to be honest, he had expected Ward to be much more... evil.

A short glance to one of the timers on the bomb told him that he had barely seven minutes left. He wasted no more time in finding out how deep the shard went in or what angle would be best to remove it but just started pulling carefully and without warning. The shard did not budge and the only thing that resulted from this move was Ward giving a gasp of pain and more blood seeping from the wound, making the glass even more slippery. He could feel the back muscles beneath his hands start to quiver.

“Alright, this is probably jammed somewhere between your ribs”, Hunter said. “I need you to lie down, otherwise it’s not going to work. Slip out of the sleeves of your jacket beforehand, so I can remove it after the shard is out.”

Ward did as he was told and lay down on his stomach, his head turned to Hunter so he could watch him. Hunter lost no time and pulled on the shard again, this time twisting it a little. He heard Ward’s breathing turn ragged, but eventually he felt the piece of glass coming loose. Very carefully, he started removing it. It made him slightly faint with relief when he saw no blood gushing rhythmically from the wound after the shard was out. It still bled, a lot, but not as much as it could have.

“Good news”, Hunter announced. “The shard missed the artery. Probably just a deep wound to the muscle, judging from the length of the shard.”

Ward did not reply. He had his eyes clenched shut and Hunter could hear his molars grinding together. A wound like that was painful as hell and Hunter could not help the small twinge of sympathy he felt towards the former specialist. He removed the jacket and pressed a bandage to the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. A quick glance to the timer told him that he had only three minutes left.

“This is not going to stop bleeding in three minutes, Ward”, he told him, pressing a second bandage to the wound because the first one was already soaked through.

“Just put pressure on it for another minute”, Ward instructed him hoarsely and Hunter was relieved to see he had not fainted. “Then put the antiseptic on it and wrap it up.”

Frowning, Hunter nodded reluctantly, before commenting: “Your body, your choice.”

The minute was up really quickly and he started bandaging the wound. When he was finished, there were only twenty seconds left.

“I did what you asked, now deactivate the bomb”, Hunter told Ward, who slowly and painfully pulled himself into a sitting position. Wincing, the former specialist nodded and reached over to press the pause-button on the timer closest to him. All the other timers froze, too, at exactly three seconds left.

“This is it?!”, Hunter asked incredulously. “You just press pause?”

Ward gave him a small smile, then replied smugly, “The obvious choice is often the best.”

“You bastard!”, Hunter spat.

He suddenly realized that his hands were still free and that Ward looked weakened from the ordeal. His gun had slithered somewhere into the dark hallway, but his hand-to-hand was not too bad... The sound of a gun being cocked froze his train of thoughts.

“Don’t even think about it”, the former specialist spoke calmly, training his weapon on him.

Before he could reply, the sound of footsteps could be heard. Ward motioned for him to get to his feet and not a second later there was a gun pressed to his temple and an arm lodged around his throat. Suddenly Ward did not seem that weakened after all as Hunter found himself being held hostage. Of course this was how the team found them barely a moment later. How embarrassing.

“Drop the gun, Ward”, May ordered, training her own weapon on him. Beside her, Trip and a limping Bobbi did the same. At least his wife was still mobile and had obviously been too stubborn to sit this one out. Typically Bobbi.

“Careful, he’s got a bomb”, Hunter called out to them, before the arm around his throat tightened.

“There’s no detonator, it isn’t primed”, Bobbi replied after a quick look at the bomb.

Seriously? Hunter felt more stupid from second to second. It looked like Ward had played him right from the beginning.

“There she goes and ruins all the fun”, Ward drawled. “You were right about one thing, Hunter, your wife can really be annoying.”

“Shhh”, Hunter tried to shut the former specialist up, but it was already too late.

“You told him we’re still married?!”, Bobbi exclaimed incredulously. “I swear, Hunter, this is the last string...”

“I didn’t tell him, he already knew, woman!”, Hunter tried to justify himself, exasperation showing through.

“Guys?”, Trip tried to get their attention. “Could you postpone this conversation to later? We have to bring down a traitor.”

Hunter shut his mouth, but tried to send Bobbi a look that should convey he was completely innocent. At least this time.

“You’re getting sloppy, Ward, leaving a blood trail like this”, May commented.

“Am I?”, Ward asked in return. “Seems like my ‘mistake’ got me a patch up, a nice conversation and a hostage. I’d say I was rather successful.”

Though Hunter was acutely aware of the gun pressed to his temple, it still felt nice for Ward to mention the conversation. Then he backtracked that thought. God, was he already developing a Stockholm syndrome?

“But then we still have you cornered”, May continued coldly. “You’re not getting away.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get away this time”, the former specialist replied slowly and Hunter could suddenly feel the arm around his throat begin to tremble. Ward was more exhausted and injured than he let on. “I want to talk to Coulson.”

A tense silence followed and Hunter felt himself becoming slightly unnerved by the feeling of cold steel against his temple. Maybe this was why he should have stayed in the army. No hostage situation, no quarreling with Bobbi and he would be the one holding the gun.

“If you think about going for a lucky shot”, Ward spoke carefully, “then please note that though the bomb may be fake, the C-4 is not. If one of your bullets ricochets on the wall and hits the explosive, we’re all being buried under tons of concrete. Now get Coulson down here or one of _my_ bullets might _accidentally_ hit the C-4.”

Hunter tried to gulp around the arm that was pressed to his throat. In his mind, he was screaming at his team to finally move and get Coulson down here, because he totally trusted the lunatic to bring down the building on all of them. It seemed like his telepathic skills had improved, because May looked at Trip and then motioned with her head for him to get going.

“Thanks”, Ward said and Hunter could hear the exhaustion in his voice. The breathing of the former specialist was heavy in his ears and he thought he could hear him grinding his molars again. Some poor dentist was probably weeping somewhere... Maybe Hunter could risk trying to throw him off, but again, Ward tightened his hold on him, as if he had read his mind.

“Don’t you dare hurting him”, Bobbi suddenly hissed, seeing that Hunter had some trouble breathing with Ward’s forearm pressing against his throat.

“Protective”, Ward commented to Hunter. “At least you know now that she still cares about you, too.”

“Really?”, Hunter wheezed out. “You want to talk about this again?”

“Yeah, maybe your last chance to do so”, the former specialist replied dangerously and Hunter could hear the smirk in his voice. The trembling in his arm had gotten stronger and suddenly Hunter realized that Ward was trying too hard. The intimidation act had worked before, but it somehow seemed as if Ward slowly started to lose the energy to get it across convincingly.

Before Hunter could act on his growing suspicion, Coulson appeared.

“What’s this now?”, the director asked forcefully, as if he was berating school kids. “Drop your weapons, all of you.”

May, Bobbi and Trip, who had come back with Coulson, all looked at the director as if he had lost his mind. Hunter, on the other hand, was somehow not all that surprised.

“This goes for you, too, Ward”, Coulson then ordered sharply when no one made a move to obey him.

The arm around Hunter’s throat was suddenly gone and a push sent Hunter in the direction of his team mates. When he whirled around, he saw Ward shrugging in an okay-fine-whatever-makes-you-happy-sort-of-way, then secured his gun before tossing it at Coulson’s feet. Hunter would have felt greatly amused by the looks of consternation on the faces of his team mates as they slowly lowered their weapons if he had not felt as though he had been played again. And this had definitely happened one too many times today.

“What’s going on, sir?”, he demanded to know, switching his gaze from Coulson to Ward and then back again. “And, please, don’t hold back for my sake.”

No one spoke, which awoke the urge in Hunter to tap his foot impatiently.

“Do you want to explain or shall I do the honors, Coulson?”, Ward asked mockingly.

Coulson sighed and sent the former specialist a sharp glare, before he said, “Ward has been working with us for the past few months, infiltrating Hydra and helping us bring down Whitehall.”

“And you planned on telling us that when exactly, Phil?”, May growled dangerously low, her face a mask of fury. Hunter wanted to high-five her since at least he was not the only one being fooled today, but he feared that May would bite his head off if he tried. This was the woman who had shot him just to get even.

“I didn’t plan on telling you, at all”, Coulson replied straightforwardly, then levelled Ward with another glare. “And we had a deal, Ward, and you broke that deal.”

“You know what?”, the former specialist said in a deadly calm voice. “Fuck your deal, Coulson.”

Trip raised his gun again, but the director waved at him impatiently to put it down again.

“You know I can get you back into that hole as quickly as I got you out of it”, Coulson told him in a low voice.

“Yeah?”, Ward asked mockingly, his dark eyes taking on a feverish glint. “Then do it. Put me back in your basement, but I’m done slinking in the shadows. I did everything you wanted, I infiltrated Hydra, I helped you bring down Whitehall and I saved your people with that explosion today. And for what? For a deal that says I’m to be kept alive and free as long as I keep away from you and your team. I’m tired of running and there’s no goal in it, because I have nowhere to go. This is no life, Coulson. I _know_ I screwed up and I want to make it better, so at least give me another mission.”

Hunter could hardly believe what he heard and saw. This was hardly the same man he had got to know in the last thirty minutes. Ward had lost the deadly calm and superiority he had displayed only shortly before and now just looked like a lost and tired young man who raged against his fate one last time. Despair was written all over his face and for the first time Hunter found himself wondering what had happened to Ward that had made him betray this team. Probably not money or fame.

“I have no more missions for you, Ward”, Coulson replied almost gently. “I told you I only have use for you as long as Whitehall is on the loose. Then you’re free to go wherever you want to go, as long as it’s far away from my team and you’re not making any trouble. But as soon as you were out of my sight you broke our agreement the first time by killing your brother and your parents.”

Ward sighed and shook his head, before leaning tiredly against the wall.

“They’re not dead”, he said slowly. “Just out of the picture. I think I scared them enough that they’ll keep hiding for the next few years.”

“I don’t trust you”, Coulson replied in a sad voice. “I want to believe you, but I just can’t. Not when it comes to your family and especially not with my team. How did you even imagine this would play out? You sauntering back on the plane and playing Scrabble with Fitzsimmons tonight? You can’t just pretend nothing happened, there’s too much damage.”

“I know”, Ward murmured. “I understand that I’ll never be a part of this team again, but at least let me work for righting my wrongs by protecting them. Even if it’s from afar, I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry, Ward, but even if I wanted to give you another chance, I don’t think even one member of this team would want you to get back with them, because...”

“I do”, Hunter spoke up, surprising himself by interrupting Coulson. God, his tongue was doing it again, running away with him... But he had listened to this sad story for too long and – jeez – couldn’t they see that the boy was broken and exhausted? Well, the boy being a very tall and very dangerous specialist that presently gaped at him as if he had grown a second head.

“This chap is alright”, Hunter continued lightly. “Maybe he could work on his manners and he gets all growly when you mention Skye, but... Look, that’s exactly what I mean, he’s doing it again... But other than that, I think we could really use him on our team. I think I’m actually willing to trust him.”

“I held you hostage”, Ward tried to clarify, still incredulous, as if that fact had somehow escaped Hunter.

“Yeah, so what?”, Hunter replied, raising his eyebrows. “That’s how I met Bobbi...”

“Lance...”, Bobbi called out warningly.

“... And despite her being a demonic hell beast”, Hunter continued, unfazed, “that’s still the best thing that happened to me so far. So I’d say let’s give him a chance.”

When Hunter looked around, he saw May shaking her head vigorously at him and Trip looked sceptic, too. Bobbi watched him as if she was torn between hitting him and kissing him, which was pretty much her everyday expression. Coulson was frowning thoughtfully and Ward looked as if he was about to keel over, though Hunter was not sure if that resulted from disbelief or blood loss. Probably both.

“You might want to sit down, Ward”, Hunter called out to him and slowly walked over, before he spoke to Coulson, “He was injured quite badly and the least you could do after he helped us today is give him a bed, even if it’s only the cot in his old cell.”

“I’m fine, I can...”, Ward tried to protest, but was shushed by Hunter. Ha, who would have thought that the former specialist could look so indignant when being shushed?

Coulson was quiet for a moment longer, before he slowly nodded his head.

“Alright”, he finally conceded. “We’ll take you with us and I will decide tonight what to do with you. You deserve a break, I guess.”

Ward first looked speechless, then muttered a ‘thank you’.

“Hunter”, Coulson then addressed him, “since you just adopted yourself a specialist, it’s your task to get him up into the plane and secure him. Make sure his wound is treated.”

“Yes, sir”, Hunter replied and put Ward’s left arm across his shoulder to take on some of his weight, but the former specialist immediately snatched his arm back.

“I can walk”, he grumbled.

“Alright, alright, serve yourself”, Hunter replied, but walked slowly beside Ward as they made their way back up to the surface of the earth. “So, how did you even get that shard in your back when it was you who triggered that explosion?”

For just a moment, a slightly sheepish expression stole itself on Ward’s face, but it was gone so fast that Hunter could not have sworn it had ever even been there.

“Two Hydra agents caught me preparing the bomb”, the former specialist grudgingly explained. “We fought and one of them managed to break the detonator. I had no time to repair it because that was the moment you got yourselves caught. There was no other way than to trigger it with a bullet, but I had to stand rather close to the bomb for that and one of the blast waves shattered the glass wall next to me.”

Hunter winced in sympathy and mouthed an ‘ouch’.

“But just so we’re clear”, he asked again, mustering Ward intently, “you really wanted me to see the blood trail and follow you?”

Ward shrugged a bit, then said quietly, “I needed someone to get the shard out.”

“Mate”, Hunter told him in a long-suffering tone. “You could’ve escaped and threatened a doctor to get it out. Would’ve made a better job, too. But you waited and risked to be caught.”

Ward briefly met his gaze, then immediately looked away again.

“Being alone all the time”, the former specialist explained slowly, staring to the ground, “it get’s to you after a while...”

Ward’s voice trailed off, but Hunter had heard enough and stated, “You missed your team.”

Ward still refused to meet his eyes and made no move to acknowledge or deny the statement, which was answer enough for Hunter.

There was a short silence before Hunter asked, “You know why I spoke up for you in front of Coulson back there?”

Ward finally lifted his gaze again to look him in the eyes and then minutely shook his head.

“I wondered about that myself and the only thing that came to my mind is that I must’ve hit your head a bit too hard”, the former specialist said wryly.

“Ah, my skull has seen worse”, Hunter replied impatiently. “No, it was knowing that without you, we’d all be dead now, or worse. If it was only for me, then alright, no big deal, but you also saved my wife – yeah, not ex-wife – and the best team I have worked with so far. They made me realize that I don’t want to be a mercenary anymore. There are things that are worth fighting for and it’s certainly not money. They helped me change.”

Ward was silent for a moment, then Hunter was surprised to suddenly feel the other man pat his back briefly.

“I think I know exactly what you mean”, Ward answered and there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he glanced back to the team following him.

 

_-Fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Too sappy in the end? Too unrealistic? Would love to hear what you think.


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